


The Ties That Bind

by Jitter, SiriuslySmart



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Blood, Brotp, Character Death, Dark, Gen, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Canon, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Winter Knight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:32:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4085068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jitter/pseuds/Jitter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriuslySmart/pseuds/SiriuslySmart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas has to deal with Harry's death. On top of that, Mab needs another Knight</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There was chaos in the field. You couldn’t tell Summer from Winter sidhe apart but from their magic, healing soothing golden green energy from Summer medics, cerulean icy cold aggressive power from Winter’s troops. She hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed, or have so many of her inner circle taken out in the blink of an eye. When the Winter Knight fell she could practically feel it in her bones as the power of his mantle flowed back to her, much like his blood was flowing on the ground. There was no time to lose. The battle was going on and Winter needed their Knight’s power.

And she knew just the right person.

She took to the skies above the field until she spotted him. He was fighting hand to hand next to the mortals her now dead Knight had dragged along to help. She landed next to him without preamble, blasting the foe he was fighting with and turned to look at him.

“Your brother is dead.” she said nonchalantly.

Thomas felt, rather than heard, the words that came from the queen’s mouth as he watched the iced over remains of the enemy fall to the ground. He felt, rather than saw, his friends - Harry’s friends - continue to fight on around him. Karrin, who shouldn’t have been here, but insisted anyway. Sanya, who was laughing as he hacked off heads in what was apparently a very godly fashion, Will and Georgia, whose daughter was at home with Justine and Maggie and little David, once again left waiting to see if her parents and aunts and uncles would get back. They weren’t the only ones, but they were the closest. Not one of them reacted, not at all. He wondered if they hadn’t heard because they were fighting, or simply because Mab hadn’t wanted them to.

He wondered how he was going to tell Maggie.

And he knew what was coming next, without having to guess. He inclined his head, a gesture of thanks for the passed on information, and said, “No.”

She stared at him. Her eyes were as white and empty as the freezing moon that hang above the field and there was nothing on that face that could suggest what was going through Queen Mab’s mind. Then she tilted her head. 

“No?” she asked, “The fate of reality is hanging by a thread and our Knight has fallen. Now is no time to be selfish, child of Raith.”

Thomas looked at her now, unable to not be moved by her appearance, but trying his best to stay as still as possible as he answered. “The fate of reality can go to hell,” he said, and the stillness that her announcement had caused was broken, replaced instead by a force of bile, of rage, of desperation. “I will fight your monsters, but I will not  _be_ your monster. Your Knight has fallen. My  _brother_ is  _dead._ And you know as well as I do what he’d say — how he’d —”

He turned from her, gripping his knives tightly, feeling the hilts bruising his skin, no thinking, no feeling, not yet. “Find someone else. Find  _anyone_ else. Now is exactly the time to be selfish.  _No.”_

“You disappoint me much as Harry Dresden disappointed me for years.” she said leaning in close to his face, despite his rage or perhaps just because of it. Her chilling breath caressed his lips as her nails trailed his jaw for a moment, “However he came crawling to me in the end just like you will, Thomas Raith.”

She then pulled abruptly away from him and grabbed a sidhe soldier. “Sound the horns. We are retreating.”

She didn’t even bother with his body. It was one among many others.

The fae retreated and so did the foe, and Thomas was left alone with his band of mortals. Oblivious. They were oblivious. That bitch had left it so he’d have to tell them, even though she’d been standing right there.

He did.

It was awful.

The questions came flying at him, but he ignored them. Karrin, who had responded with a frozen silence, nodded as he turned and told them he was going to find his brother’s body. She was the only one to follow.

* * *

He had to tell Maggie. She hit him, whacking his arm repeatedly, telling him not to lie, until finally she realised it was true and collapsed against him in tears. Maggie was an adult now, but she still needed a family, and so she moved in with Justine and Thomas on the pretence of them needing help with David, who didn’t understand where his favourite uncle had gone.

Nor did he understand, months later, why his mother was spending more and more time withdrawn to her bed, or why her friends stopped visiting, or why Dad looked less and less happy and his eyes turned more and more silvery every day that passed.

“Maggie,” he said one day, “Is my momma sick?”

“Yes,” his cousin told him softly, putting down the book she’d been reading for him. “Very sick.”

David nodded. “And my daddy? Is he sick too?”

Maggie hesitated this time, but nodded. “Yes, but not like your mom. He’s … very worried. He’s doing everything he can think of to help her.”

David curled up against her, uncertain. “Maggie, is my momma going to die?” he asked.

There was a loud smashing sound from the kitchen next door, where Thomas had been making dinner. This time, Maggie didn’t answer. 

Justine had been moved to a hospital not long after. She had started getting pains in her chest and in her head but soon she had been sent home again, the doctors saying there was nothing more they could do for her and that the comfort of her own home was preferable.

* * *

 

It had been cold and dreary even for Chicago. The ice and cold had held through April and it had just started snowing again. Thomas had just dropped off David to school and was on his way to his car when a familiar tall and slender figure appeared in front of him.

“Greetings, Thomas Raith.”

Thomas stood still in the street, closing his eyes, counting internally,  _one two three four five,_ before he was able to look upon her. He inclined his head, and said, as calmly and politely as he could manage, “Good morning, Your Grace.”

He wasn’t any more stupid than he once had been, even with the pain of losing his brother and the pain of watching his love disappear. He knew why she was here … but it was harder to put a stop to it immediately this time.

Instead, he looked at her steadily, and said, “Can I help you?”

“Certain events have transpired since we last met.” she said. She was dressed in a gown that looked like it was made of wire and glass, too bright against the snow-covered cars, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, the colour too stark a contrast against her pale skin. 

Pale locks were going through a wreath fashioned out of baby’s-breath and flowed in soft curls well past her hips. The snow seemed dark and gray in comparison.

“I was wondering whether you might have reconsidered my offer. ”

Thomas stared at her for a moment more, but it didn’t take long before his nerve broke and he looked away. Goddamn faeries. He knew what she was offering. He wasn’t stupid. But, damn, if it wouldn’t be nice for someone to speak straight for once.

Still, he knew this game, and he knew how it was played. He knew the smart move would be to refuse her politely and move on, but Harry was dead, and Justine was dying, and it wouldn’t hurt to just _hear_ her offer.

“What, exactly, are you proposing?” he asked. “Specifically.”

Mab’s mouth quirked and she folded her hands in front of her, primly.

“Simple as things go. Accept my offer to become the Knight of Winter and your mortal will be restored to full health. Full health, Thomas Raith, it would be as if your little… endeavor never occurred.” 

The snow seemed to turn softer for a moment, the wind wasn’t as stingy against his skin and a few snowflakes twirled and landed on Mab’s hair, shining there like jewels.

“What say you?”

He nearly did it. He nearly said yes, nearly sold his soul, right then and there. To have Justine back how she should be, how she  _would_ be if it wasn’t for him …

His phone rang, and he automatically took it out of his pocket to check the caller ID. It was his own home landline, the landline they’d had installed specifically for Maggie moving in. Before that, he and Justine hadn’t bothered, being easily accessible through their cells at all times. The ringing broke through his trance, and with an apologetic murmur to the queen, he answered.

“Mags?” he said. “I can’t really talk right now. I thought you were going—”

“I got the interview!” Maggie told him, her voice breathless and excited and happy in a way it so rarely was these days. “For the school! They want to interview me!”

Thomas blinked, attempting to refocus his mind. “Maggie, that’s—”

“—But I’m going to be late for work, so I have to go. I just wanted to let you know.  We can go tell dad later, okay?”

“Maggie—”

The line went dead, and Thomas stared at his phone for a moment before returning it to his pocket. He glanced behind him at the school, where the children had all disappeared inside now, and looked back to Mab, a rueful smile on his face. “My apologies for the interruption,” he said, and part of him  _was_ sorry. Dammit, he’d been so close. He could have had her  _back._ Instead, he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I … appreciate your offer, Your Grace, but I have to say no.”

Mab’s cold smile had disappeared.

“Ah, Margaret. _Maggie._ The child that once helped in acquiring one Knight, becomes the reason I am denied another. Alas.”

She looked at him again, straight in the eyes and tilted her chin outwards. 

“Be sure, Thomas Raith, Mab always acquires what she wishes for. I waited too long with your brother. You, however, are immortal, and yet you find life just as sweet as mortals do. I can wait so much more."

* * *

And so, Justine died, and Thomas and Maggie and little David mourned, and Maggie got into her school, and life went on. Thomas thought about just ending it, more than once, but he couldn’t. He remembered his brother’s firm admonishments, back when David was no more than a fetus, back when Harry was there when he needed him.  _“You and I aren’t allowed to be dramatic so much anymore,”_  Harry had said, only half-joking.  _“Not with these two.”_

So Thomas wasn’t dramatic. He grieved, he mourned, he moved on. David, poor David, he didn’t understand. He missed his mom, and sometimes only Maggie could get him out of bed in the morning, Maggie with her gentle words and loving hugs that Thomas seemed to have forgotten. Thomas loved his son fiercely, more fiercely than should have been possible, but when he saw him now, he saw  _her,_ and he saw how he’d let David down. He still played with him, and read him goodnight, but it hurt.

He was so like Justine. He had mostly his father’s looks, but he had his mother’s charm. Unfortunately, he also had her constitution. When he got sick, which was often, there was high drama in the household, especially from Maggie, who didn’t trust Lara’s doctors like Thomas still did, couldn’t bear the idea of losing her cousin so soon after her aunt and her father had left her.

The flu that hit him the following winter was enough to worry even Thomas. He’d been vaccinated, of course, but he got sick anyway, despite their efforts. Thomas was awake most nights, trying to comfort him, trying to make him eat. When Maggie wasn’t at school, she was with them, no matter how many times Thomas ordered her to leave the sick room.

It was after almost a full two weeks of this that one of the doctors took Thomas to the side, and, true to her word, was as blunt as she could be. “Mr. Raith, there’s not much we can do for a flu. We’ve been making him comfortable —”

“Don’t use that phrase,” Thomas snapped, more harshly than he’d intended to. When had he last slept, he wondered. When had he last ate?  When had he last  _fed?_

The doctor nodded apologetically, but continued nonetheless. “—but I’m afraid at this point, the virus will either clear or it will not. Tonight or tomorrow night will probably be the worst for him. I’ll stay around, but I thought it best that you know what’s happening.”

Of course, Maggie heard everything. Why wouldn’t she have? Of course, Thomas didn’t notice her listening until she’d turned and ran out of the room, out of the apartment, out of sight.

He stood to follow her, but from David’s room, the dry, weak sobbing started again, and he sank back down into his chair, his head in his hands. “Empty night,” he said, his voice coming out broken. “What do I do?”

The doctor looked at him in pity, but she had no answer, as she went back into David’s room.

It was past 2 AM when the doorbell rang. Thomas hadn’t been sleeping, and as tired as he was, his mind was awake. He’d been loathe to leave David’s bedside again, but he guessed Maggie had forgotten her key, or something. It didn’t take long, when he saw them outside, to work out what was going on.

Queen Mab and Maggie were standing there. It was a weird and surreal tableau, like a neighbour delivering your kid after school, only this was the freaking Queen of Winter, in a white sundress and sandals, in contrast to Maggie’s scarf, gloves and heavy duster. 

It was Harry’s own which she had had shortened and tailored to her measurements and at that moment she looked so much like Harry, with all the pain and guilt drawn on her face, that it seemed like she was Harry’s ghost rather than his kid.

“Your niece sought to make me a deal.” Mab said, her arm around Maggie’s shoulders, possessively. “I found it prudent that I should have to notify her legal guardian before I proceeded in any negotiations.”

“I’m a freaking adult. And I told you I didn’t want him to know,” Maggie grumbled and Mab laughed.

“So much her father’s child. She would make an excellent Knight, don’t you think?”

Thomas had never hated anyone so much as he hated the Queen at that moment, or, at least, it felt that way. He gave a stiff nod to her, and said, “You’re  _not_ a freaking adult, Maggie. Get inside.”

Maggie stared at him, surprised. “What are you—”

“Get  _inside,”_ Thomas growled at her. He looked at Mab, and he knew he’d lost. Worse, he knew that  _she_ knew that he’d lost.  _Third time’s the charm_ , he thought bitterly.

“She’s a child,” he said, forcing the words out of his mouth. “She’d make a poor Knight for one such as yourself, your Grace.”

“No, Uncle Thomas, I need to—” Maggie started, but the look he gave her, all silver eyes and anger, quelled her into silence.

“A  _child,”_ he repeated. “And a  _stupid_ one at that.” Maggie flinched at his tone, but he ignored her, staring steadily at Mab, at the woman, the faerie, the force of nature who he saw now would never have taken no for the final answer. So be it. He dipped his head. “If you will still have me, I would offer my own service. In exchange for hers.”

“Uncle Thomas,  _no!”_  Maggie piped up without thinking. “No. This is my duty.”

"Shut up, Margaret. Just shut up. I will talk to you afterwards,” he snapped, closing his eyes.

Mab’s smile never wavered. Her eyes never stayed on Maggie, all her attention had been on Thomas since the beginning.

She heard the sobbing that had started again as if little David knew what was going on a few feet outside his bedroom and then she turned to Thomas.

“Are you sure this is the way you wish to phrase your acceptance?” she asked. 

Sure? He was angry, and in pain, and it was the seventh two in the morning he’d seen in seven days. He wasn’t sure about anything. he rubbed his eyes, thinking about what he’d said. What had he offered?

He must have been delirious, because a half smile was on his face when he opened his eyes again. She’d offered him a chance. Perhaps she really did want him in good favour. Whatever the reason, he saw the flaw and was quick to make amends.

“To be clear,” he said, ignoring Maggie's protests again. “What I meant was that I would offer myself as your Knight, for the same deal negotiated by Maggie. You give her what she asked for, and in exchange, you get me instead of her. Is that acceptable to you?”

“It’s not acceptable to  _me!”_ Maggie cried out, unable to help herself.

Now that smirk grew wider, almost feline. Like a cat that finally caught the bird out of its cage and was about to pounce and catch it in her claws.

“I might have gone to her for a pair of fancy shoes.” Maggie walked to Thomas and clung on his shirt. “I might have sold myself for a pair of Louboutins. Stop being an idiot, David needs you, _Thomas_.”

“Your father paid this price for you, Margaret,” Thomas said, very calmly, very angrily. “He would rather see me dead a thousand times than let you go in his place, you you know that. Stop being a child.”

Thomas knew she said more, but he didn’t hear it, his eyes fixed on the Queen as she moved towards him. He felt Maggie being pushed away from him, but he ignored that, ignored her, ignored the noise from his son’s bedroom. There was nothing but Thomas, nothing but Mab who seemed amused by the whole scene.

“Excellent. For a moment I thought you were an imbecile.” she eyed Thomas and then Maggie and pushed her aside from him with a cold hand. “Your price. Speak it clearly.”

“I would exchange my service as your Winter Knight for my son’s health, and for the continued protection of my niece, Maggie,” Thomas said. He hesitated before adding, “Along with the condition that any and all particular terms which were applied to your agreement with Harry Dresden in his capacity as your Knight are also applied to our own arrangement,” he added. “Do we have a deal?”

Instead of a reply, Mab nodded imperceptibly and stepped over the threshold, over Maggie’s wards, that he and David needed an amulet to pass through, and went straight into David’s bedroom.

She opened the door and stepped inside. The crying had stopped and there was only the heavy breath of the child, nose stuffed and noisy, hair stuck on his forehead from a night’s sweat from the fever, the room smelling strongly of perspiration, chamomile and another tangy smell. Possibly body odour since David had been too weak to take a bath.

She leaned over him and then sat on the bed and her gesture was gentle, almost motherly, as she extended her hand and moved the hair aside from his face. His forehead was burning up.

David opened his eyes a little and looked at her, eyes red and sunken but he raised a hand then and took hold of a lock of Mab’s hair and brought it in front of his eyes and peered at it. The narrowed look suddenly changed into some sort of delight when he realised the lock he was holding was white and he let a tired smile show.

“Mommy?” he asked. “Are you here to take me with you?”

There was a sharp intake of breath and Maggie who was by the bedroom door bolted and locked herself in the bathroom, banging the door behind her. Mab caressed the child’s face, taking hold of his head in both hands.

“Hush, child.” Mab said and leaned and gave David a kiss on his forehead.

It took maybe a minute but when Mab got up, David’s eyes were less sunken, his breathing was easier and the pallor was gone from his face. Soon the small breaths had eased into a relaxed healthy sleeping breath and Mab walked over to Thomas, taking him by the bicep.

“Time to go.” she said.

* * *

 

Thomas had watched her over his son, watched her caress David as Justine once had, watched as she brought his boy back to life. It should have hurt more when David asked if she was his mother, come to take him away, but all he felt was a dull pang, an ache that had been constant since the day she left. 

He had the sudden urge to rush over, to take his boy in his arms, to tell him he was here and that he loved him, to apologise for pulling away. Instead, he had stayed where he was, watching Maggie run off. David whimpered as Mab pulled away, but he was asleep in seconds, and Mab was by his side.

Thomas didn’t react to her presence, watching David for a moment longer before nodding. He turned and allowed Mab to lead him down the hallway, pausing briefly outside the bathroom door. “Allow me one more moment, your Grace,” he said. He knocked on the door, and said, no inflection in his tone, “Maggie, make sure that you are in there when he wakes up if I’m not.”

Without waiting for an answer, he gestured to the Queen - his Queen - to continue. They left without looking back.

They walked outside of the apartment together but instead of getting out on the hallway, Thomas would see that they were walking on soft soil, covered with leaves. They started green and soft but with each step they turned more and more warm in color, orange, yellows and browns, their color inversely proportional to the temperature around them.

Finally the leaves turned into an ash brown and began crumbling under their feet and the air was the kind of cold that makes your eyes water and you wishing to get back inside and huddle up under a blanket by the fireplace.

They weren’t in Chicago anymore, that was easy to see. They were in a valley, a broad bowl-shaped expanse surrounded by a taiga. The light made it feel like it should have been overcast but there were cold stars, glimmering with an intense whiteness in contrast to the deep indigo sky.,

There was an eerie silence. Nature was never that quiet, even in the dead of night but Thomas was able to listen to his own and Mab’s breathing and even see his breath fog in front of him as Mab led him through the valley towards its perfect center where there lay a small mound.

There was a slab of stone on it, supported by pillars carved with serpentine grooves and patterns that glowed with a light that smoothly changed from frozen green to icy blue to chilling lavender, only to shine a burning white for a moment before returning to green once more. 

The light throbbed and pulsed in rhythm with the will-o-the wisps around them, allowing Thomas to see that the table-like structure was surrounded by more pillars. There were signs that they might have been broken in the past but only two were ruined now, giving the place the feeling of a sacrificial altar, and sure enough when they got closer, Thomas would be able to see the stains that marred the smooth stone surface. Stains that could have been nothing but blood. Stains so ancient that probably not even Mab would remember the reason they were there.

Mab had been silent on their way there and remained silent as they reached the table and she seemed to reach into her dress and take out what looked like a throbbing human heart. She reached out to Thomas, heart in one hand, an intricately embellished dagger in the other. She didn’t need to speak, it was obvious what she wanted him to do as she offered both to him, her eyes, glowing, her pupils vertical and dilated, like a cat’s in the night.

Thomas stared at the heart for a moment, knowing he should be feeling revulsion, fear,  _something,_ but all he could muster was a dull acceptance. He was so tired. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t Fed for far too long. He’d thought of nothing but his son, dying like his wife had, like his brother had, dying in his arms.

Well. No more. David would survive.

But what a cost. _Oh, Maggie._ Why did she have to be so like her father? Why is it that Thomas expected,  _wanted,_ nothing less from her?

He accepted the dagger without a word, plunging it into the heart with no inflection to his expression, raising his face to meet her eyes once more, briefly, before dipping his head again.

He’d lost the battle … or maybe he’d just given in to an inevitability. Maybe he was always going to end up here. End up with another monster to battle against. Another endless fight.

Without Justine.

Without Harry.

But for David, for Maggie, he would win. Just like his brother had.

Mab watched him stab the heart which immediately stopped pulsing and blood welled up from it, drenching Thomas’s hand, dripping slowly on the smooth surface of the table to find the grooves and flow into them, following the ancient carvings as if magnetized. There was way more blood than there should have been, way more than a single heart could hold but it kept welling and welling until all the grooves were filled with it, a thrum of power rising from the stone.

She had been undressing him as the blood flowed out of the heart and by the time the heart had stopped, Thomas was fully in the nude.

“A Knight’s heart stops beating and another Knight shall rise to take his place.” she said in an almost inaudible whisper. A reverent whisper, reserved for churches and cemeteries and places of ritual and worship, which come to think of it, this place was. 

She reached to take hold of a pair of laces from her dress and pulled on them, undoing the bodice, letting the garment flow loose and pool around her feet, leaving her in the same state of undress as Thomas had been.

She pushed him lightly, leading him to lie on the table and when he was fully lying on it she followed him, straddling him gently.

She wasn’t rough or pressing or forcing but Thomas had been starving and she was beautiful, however cold. He pressed against her as she started moving on top of him, leaning over to capture his mouth in a kiss, which his Demon urged him to reciprocate and his hands tangled in her hair against her scalp, marring the whiteness of her hair with red, making her start moving faster, responding to the waves of lust and hunger and need coming out of him. 

Her hands grabbed his shoulders to make him stay down and she bared her teeth in a silent growl, the soft curves of her breasts pressing on his chest again and again as she rocked against him and the magic of the stone table started working, gleaming, transferring the power from old Knight to new.

Thomas growled back and shoved at her and at first she was an immovable weight, not pressing like a rock would be but rather like trying to push a wall out of the way. It seemed simply impossible. But then the resistance disappeared and Thomas rolled her around and suddenly was the one on top, his back full of symbols, stamped on his skin by the carvings and the blood, altogether glowing with the colours of winter, buzzing, shimmering, pulsating.

His mouth found Mab’s neck and bit down on the pale skin, sucking and grazing, leaving his marks, the first marks as her knight. His hands cupped the back of her head as he thrust in her, feeding freely, knowing that he didn’t need to hold back for the first time in a long time, letting the energy pour into him, sating his Hunger, fooling the emptiness their deaths had left behind.

When he reached completion Queen Mab let out a moan and her hands kept hold of his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist, urging him to continue, which he did. He kept feeding, until she too let her cries mark their union under those cold burning stars as Queen and new Knight of Winter. 


	2. Chapter 2

After.

Well, there really was no after. Or to be more accurate, there was no before. Here he was, more satisfied than he’d been in a long, long time, in every sense of the word. His demon purred contentedly, for now not reacting to the new weight that Thomas felt on his shoulders, in his chest.

They were clothed again, somehow, and standing on opposite ends of the table, looking at each other. Thomas didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember dressing, but he nodded his head at her and said, rather ruefully, “I think I may have been out of place mocking my brother all those times.”

He was surprised by his own humour, his own candid commentary. This situation didn’t call for it, not by any means, but … despite the extra weight, the extra ties, the extra monster, Thomas felt  _light._ His son was safe, his niece was safe - properly safe - and maybe it was the surge of power, or maybe being so well-fed that he was practically glowing, but right now he felt free.

_Until you swim into the glass wall, goldfish,_ a little voice nagged, but he dismissed it. That was for later.

She tilted her head at his remark, no show of emotion apart from a small twitch in her eyes. As if him joking like that reminded her something. If it did she didn’t speak though, she just remained there, hands folded over her breasts, waiting.

“I do not have an immediate need for you, Knight.” she said finally, “I shall call you when you are needed.”

And then she was gone, and Thomas was outside his building, blood still on his hands.

* * *

 If John, the doorman, was surprised to see Thomas enter, shirt covered in blood and never having left, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded in polite greeting, handing over the spare key when Thomas said he’d forgotten his, and just as politely ignoring the red puddles on his hands.

Maggie was waiting, and she jolted out of the living room as soon as the door clicked, but Thomas brushed past her without a word. He was mildly surprised at himself: he was angry, yes, but his anger wasn’t its usual self. It was a … well, a  _cold_ anger. He simply didn’t want to deal with his niece right now.

He entered the bathroom and began to wash the grime off of his hands, knowing Maggie was hovering just outside of the door, and then the silence was broken,

“Daddy?”

Thomas spun to see his son, looking like himself for the first time in … how long? … standing in the doorway. “David,” he said, and his voice came out hoarse.

“Daddy, I dreamed about Mommy,” he said, walking forward for a hug. 

Thomas squatted to eye level, then wrapped his arms around his boy. He furiously blinked away the tears that had appeared, unbidden, in his eyes, and looked up to see Maggie watching them.

Maggie was leaning against the door frame, and at that moment looked so much like Harry it felt as if there was a ghost there with the in the bathroom. She touched David lightly on the shoulder and he turned to her. “Bedtime, sweety.” she said, “We can talk in the morning, I’ll buy you Froot loops, okay?”

David nodded and kissed them both goodnight before returning to his bedroom.

Maggie looked at the watered blood that stained the sink then at Thomas’s clothes but didn’t say anything about it. She had seen Harry with blood on his hands too often to be surprised.

“I made him burgers and fries. He cleaned his plate and drank about three pints of apple juice. And seems you’re not Hungry either.” she stated simply, her words almost an accusation. She knew she didn’t exactly have the right to be judgemental that night but she still commented on it. “What happened out there?”

Thomas stood, and surveyed her for a moment. She  _did_ look her her father, but even more like her mother. Thomas hadn’t known Susan all that well, of course, but something about the way Maggie was standing, the way she was holding herself, reminded him forcefully of that night. The night they’d found Maggie. The night that had gotten them into this whole goddamn mess in the first place.

He let out a low breath, and responded, “I cleaned up your mess.” He slipped off his ruined shirt - no point in embarrassment, not here, Maggie had seen much worse - and surveyed it with distaste. He’d  _liked_ that shirt. “I hope you made sure he had some vegetables, too,” he added. “Keep his strength up.”

He tossed the shirt into the waiting laundry basket, then made to leave the bathroom to fetch another.

“School board declared fries count as a vegetable. He can have some kale or some shit tomorrow, let him get his calories.” she said, sounding more bored than she was. On the contrary she was extremely alert and careful. She didn’t know how Thomas would handle the mantle or what he was going to do for Mab. Harry rarely spoke about what he did for the Winter Queen.

“Don’t fucking swear in front of me,” Thomas said casually.

“Fine, I won’t  _fuckin_  swear around you. Jesus, I’m not a child anymore."

Thomas gave her a look, and found himself, despite everything, amused. “Not a child, right. Those spiteful comments and ill-thought ‘sacrifices’ are really helping your case there, Mags.” He walked out of his bedroom and into the living room, waiting for her to join him before speaking again.

“As if you’re better. Asking me not to swear then going at it like a sailor.” she huffed, pulling the shirt out of the basket and tossed it in the tub, talking to him from the bathroom. 

“I’m your uncle, I can swear if I want,” Thomas said, looking away from her. She didn't answer.

“That needs soaking. Washing machines are nice but they’re not magic.” she said and finally followed him to the living room but before, she made a stop to the kitchen. “Although I doubt even magic could clean that. Did you wrestle on a butcher’s slab or something?”

He snorted at her question, then said, “No, not quite.”

He sat his feet up on the coffee table, considering his answer, then shrugged. Why not tell her the truth? “You’re close, though,” he continued. “I had to stab a human heart – “  He winced slightly, but went on in the same light tone, “– and then screw her majesty on the blood-covered stone table. Great fun, really. Should’ve left you to it.”

“Wow. That’s a description. Was it store-bought– the heart – or you harvested your own?” she muttered, passing him a plate with cold fries and a soggy burger. “It got cold but seems you’re into frozen Food now anyways.”

 He didn’t complain as he ate the cold food, though a shadow passed over his face at Maggie’s question. “My royal fuckbuddy had it pre-prepped, actually,” he said, in a tone that clearly said he wouldn’t be expanding on that point.

“I don’t regret offering and I would have done it. For David. If you hadn’t jumped in.” she glared. “Yes, including banging her royal froyo on a table.” she frowned as she said the word table, looking at the coffee table in front of them, trying to keep the mental image of Mab and Thomas rolling on it naked.  _UGH._

“You would have, I don’t doubt that,” he added. “You’re brave, and loving, and just like your father. Also, you’re an idiot.”

“So what’s your job gonna be? Royal consort of Elsa gone dark? i don’t remember dad ever having to do that.”

He frowned, leaning his head back to glare at the ceiling. “Consort, assassin, spy … whatever’s needed, I suppose.  Just like Harry was,” he said, a note of bitterness in his voice now. “If you didn’t know about it, that’s because he was protecting you, because that’s what he  _did,_ the stupid noble bastard.” He sighed then, sitting up straight once more. “And he’d have killed me if she’d gotten you. You understand that, don’t you? He understood, eventually, that what he’d signed up for was  _necessary,_ but the idea that  _you_ were anywhere near it … that man would have burned the world away first.” A small smile flitted across his face, briefly, then faded again.  _And toasted marshmallows in the flames,_ he thought. “Not that he’d be too happy about me signing up, either,” 

“I get it. But he’d understand if I did, because it was for David. We’re made of the same stuff, apparently.”

"Nah. He was irrational when it came to you. He’d understand why  _I_ did it, but you? When I could have stepped in? Not a chance. Hell, he was bad enough when Molly–” Abruptly, Thomas cut himself off. “Well. That’s my job.”

“Molly. Right. Hoo boy that’s gonna be a hell of a reunion."

He chuckled. “Right. That’s one way to put it."

Maggie paused, thinking back in the conversation. 

“I knew about the spying and the hitman stuff. Although he never hunted humans… did he?” she asked carefully, unsure if she wanted to know.

 “Your dad was a good man. Like, a real one. Those aren’t very common. He made his deal and did what he had to for her, but he was firm about a few things - the ‘not killing innocent people no matter how much they annoy you’ thing being at the forefront. Though,” he added, swatting her hand away as she reached for another fry, “That’s not to say he never did anything he wasn’t proud of. This job … this mantle … it’s got a way of getting to a person.” He sighed. “At least I’m better prepared to deal with it. And it  _had_ been far too long since I’d fed.”

“Now, see, what I didn’t know was that he and her majestic highness were re-enacting the battle of Balls Deep. You know. Elves and all, wizard coming in the end.” she deadpanned, stealing one of his cold fries.

Thomas stared at her for a moment, then laughed, properly. “Empty night, Mags, it’s like he’s in the room with me. If that’s how you talk about sex, we need to get you laid. What happened to that girl you met at school?”

She finally smiled and poked her tongue out at him. “Yeah, still seeing that girl.” she shrugged. “Not sure I want to sleep with her though. I kind of miss Alyssa.  She just had to go to stupid Europe.” she outmanoeuvred his hand and stole another fry, prodding the blob of ketchup with it. “I miss him.” she said, eating the fry and leaning back, folding her hands on her chest, then prodded Thomas with her foot. “You gonna be alright?”

  _No,_ he thought. “Yes,” he said, playfully kicking her foot away. “You know me.” He paused and said, “Tomorrow, I’m going to go tell him. I’m gonna take David, since he’s not been out in so long.”

It wasn’t that Thomas was superstitious - however ironic that may be for a creature of myth - and graves in general didn’t hold much emotion for him one way or the other. Justine had wanted to be cremated, and her ashes were scattered in a small, family-owned park filled with flowers and grass and all that beautiful stuff she’d have appreciated. It was his cousin, Maya, who’d donated it without a word, and she’d received no word of thanks, either. That was just how they did things. There was a tiny play-park iinside, which the local children were occasionally allowed to play in. Sometimes, before he’d gotten sick, Thomas had taken David - and Maggie, though she’d protested she was  _far_ too old for that kind of thing - to play. He would sit on a bench and watch, or push his son on the swings, and feel like she was with him, but he never spoke to her. It was better to let her rest.

Harry’s grave, though, was different. It had taken a while for him to believe that his brother wasn’t coming back this time,and the aftermath of this realisation hadn’t been pretty. Karrin - poor, heartbroken Karrin, who’d known their romance would be brief but had been sure it would be caused by her death, not his, never his - had been the first one he’d cut off. He couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear how close she was, how heartbroken she was, how  _she_ had more right to pain than  _him,_ having known him for so much longer, even if Harry was his brother. Karrin would have never, ever said that, of course, but nonetheless Thomas felt it, and he stopped answering her calls, stopped taking David to visit, and, eventually, stopped seeing her almost altogether.

The rest of Harry’s friends - his friends, for a while - had dropped off the radar pretty quickly after that, but it was Molly who had caused the most pain. His new boss. Karrin had been in quiet, contented, happy love with his brother, but Molly’s love was blazing, unfulfilled, as intense as it was complex, the love for a mentor and a brother-uncle-father figure alongside her love for him as a man, as a lover that never was, and on top of even that, her position of the Winter Lady to his Knight. His death had broken Karrin, but it had  _shattered_ Molly, just like it did Thomas. The difference, of course, was that Molly could feel everyone else’s pain, too. He didn’t know if she’d stayed in touch with Karrin or Butters or anyone else, but she and Thomas had tried to be there for each other, at first. It had been too much, too much for either of them, and they had simultaneously shut each other out, bitterly, angrily, and they hadn’t spoken in years. A reconciliation had almost occurred, once, between all three of them - himself, Molly, and Karrin - but Justine had fallen ill almost immediately after it had been arranged, and so it had never come to pass.

Harry would hate this state of affairs, but, then, Harry wasn’t here. Thomas smiled, a little sadly, at the thought. He’d go to Harry’s grave to talk to him, unlike any other grave in the world, to promise he was keeping Maggie safe, to let him know what was happening, to curse at him for leaving. He often went without Maggie, but he felt like this time, of all times, he should extend the invitation.

Back in the present, he added, “We can wait until after classes if you want to come.” He gave her a rueful smile and added, “Though you might need to keep David company for a few hours after. I need to talk to my sisters, too, and I’d rather he wasn’t there for that.”

“I don’t have classes tomorrow.” she said nudging him back with her foot. “It was kind of the reason I picked tonight to call on  _her._  I figured that you’d at least be happy I was considerate enough to not jeopardize my very expensive college education.”  It was too soon to joke about this but she couldn’t help herself. 

“Your  _incredibly_ expensive college education,” Thomas said. Part of him was still furious at her, and it was stronger than he was used to dealing with. Some new part of him was wondering at her audacity - he hadn’t  _had_ to take her in, he hadn’t  _had_ to pay for her to go to college, he hadn’t  _had_ to give up what was left of his pitiful excuse for a life to save hers, and here she was, cracking jokes, as if there was nothing wrong. Stealing his food. Taking his money, monopolising his home. Acting as though she–

The joke about her college loan was supposed to make them feel better, make them both laugh but there was something in the way Thomas had spoken, the way his jaw clenched… It made Maggie’s stomach knot.

She knew that look. She had seen it once, just once, before on her father’s face after a particularly long absence in Winter, following which he had retreated in his lab for almost two weeks, unwilling to see or talk to anyone.

She’d never forget Harry’s eyes. They were always warm and comforting, like hot chocolate when it was cold, so much like her own, but those two weeks they looked colder, and hard as steel. At some point she thought they had looked almost steely grey but she had been a kid, what did she know?

 “I’d like to visit with you, and I’ll take David to the aquarium after, like you used to do for me. He’ll like the otters.” She gulped and tried to look as small as she could, a hard task with her being half an inch shy of 6′, and looked at her nails. Bitten and rough, cuticles almost bleeding from the biting. She had shredded them while waiting for Thomas to return. She made a mental not to apply some handcream on them. They hurt. “I can leave for a while so you can get some hot water going for a bath if you want.” she offered carefully, “I’ll go to Denny’s or something.”

He saw her look at her hands, and automatically looked down with her, and the pressure that had been building but, unnoticed, released a little. The anger, which had flared unexpectedly, died down a little … but not enough. He nodded towards his landline and said, “Call your friend. Go get pancakes or something. You know where I keep my cards.”

Then, abruptly, he stood, and walked out of the room.

“Thank you uncle Thomas.” she mumbled and got up, trying not to bolt like a scared rabbit.

_Hell’s holy bells._


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was brisk and clear, and David, bundled up in his coat, seemed to find the outside world fascinating. Thomas, who had put on a jacket for the sake of appearance - surely it wasn’t fair that the cold now didn’t affect him  _twice -_ had it buttoned all the way to the top, if only so David would copy him.

His son was in perfect health, but it had been so long since he’d been that way that Thomas was certain he’d start coughing again at any moment. Maggie, too, looked anxious, but she was hiding it slightly better than he was.

Graceland was busy, mostly with tourists, from what Thomas could tell. He resisted a smile at that - morbid tourism had always amused him - as they arrived at Harry’s gravestone. “Hi Harry,” he said, then turned to Maggie.” Got the blanket?” he asked, putting down the basket of food he’d been holding.

“Hi Uncle Harry!” David piped up, looking abnormally thrilled to be here.

During the years that they have been having their ‘Grave Picnincs” they often attracted annoyed glares, glares that Maggie reciprocated with fervor. Once, an old lady had tsk at them, while they were eating icecream, having left a bowl of it on Harry’s grave symbolically and Maggie had snapped,  _Yeah thank you, hag, I am having icecream with my dead father. Hurrah._

The security guards knew about them and never bothered them, and Maggie nodded to one of them who was leaning against a tree and reminded them the closing time as she lay down the blanket.

“Maggie,” David inquired, “was your daddy really tall?”

“As a giant,” she smiled, “why?”

“There is a really tall man behind you. He’s smiling and looks like you.”

Thomas turned to face his son, alarmed. “What?” he demanded.

“He’s just sitting there, like, smiling. He keeps doing the same thing over and over. He looks friendly, Daddy,” David said, looking proud of himself. “Can’t you see him?”

Thomas moved his gaze to Maggie. He knew Harry’s ghost wasn’t here - they’d already been there and done that - but there was something about what David was saying that rang true. So … what? What was going on? “What does he look like, Davie?” he asked.

“He has brown hair and brown eyes and he’s wearing big cowboy boots,” David said, giggling. “Can I have cowboy boots, Daddy?”

Maggie had gone very still, very fast, then slowly turned her head around to where David was pointing at.

Nothing.

Zip. Nada. Just her dad’s headstone standing there as always.

“Just the boots? Coat? How about his left hand? His face? Rings?” she asked with excitement.

David shook his head. “No coat. He’s wearing a cape. He looks like … like a vampire!” Thomas blinked, and David added, “Though not like a daddy-vampire. Like a movie vampire, with fangs and everything. He’s got the same necklace as Daddy does! ”

Thomas, who had been on his feet, abruptly sat down on the ground. “Empty Night,” he muttered. “David, what’s he doing?”

David shrugged. “It’s like he’s talking to someone, but I don’t know who. He keeps holding out his cape like he’s super proud of it, though.”

_And he was_ , Thomas thought, staring at the spot where David’s gaze was fixed. His baby brother, who hadn’t yet been his brother, in that ridiculous vampire get-up and a tag-along Knight of the Cross. Justine, still young, still lost, still an item to be bartered around. Susan, barging in where she needed to not, because not many people meet two women in their life who are literally perfect for them, but Harry had, and lost one, and been lost by the other. The Red Court. The gifts.

_Here lies Harry Dresden. He died doing the right thing._

“Maggie,” he said, lurching to his feet, unable to look at the grave a moment longer. “We need to leave.”

Maggie’s face had paled  _a lot_  and she kept looking around, trying to also catch a glimpse of Harry and what was going on.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her heart thumping in her chest, “I thought his ghost was gone. I thought he had passed over!” she demanded.

“It’s not his ghost,” Thomas snapped, impatient and angry all of a sudden. He grabbed at their picnic things, practically throwing them back into the basket, and barked, “Hurry up. I said we’re  _going.”_

David stood stock still, and, when Thomas glanced at him, he saw his bottom lip was quivering. “Dad … did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

Thomas stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. Dammit, but he was supposed to be  _good_ at controlling this. What did Harry do?

_(“Yeah, I count. Count and breathe. Don’t laugh. It helps.”)_

_(“I’ll stick to my wicked cool vampire powers, little brother.”)_

_(“Wicked is right, Count Chocula. You should try my way sometime.”)_

Slowly, silently, Thomas began to count backwards from ten. When he opened his eyes, the anger was gone, and his son and his niece were still staring at him. He let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding, then took a few steps towards David and gave him a quick hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong, kid,” he said, apologetically. He turned to look at Maggie and said, again, “It isn’t his ghost. When did you ever see your dad dressed like that?”

He stepped away from David and picked up the remaining items. “Grab the blanket, Mags,” he said, unable to quite keep the urgency creeping back into his tone. “We’re going to see a friend. Let’s go.”

Maggie obeyed in an instant, snapping out of it. She watched Thomas gathering the things carefully back into the basket, not that she had had time to get everything out, and moved to get the blanket. It was still warm from the sun hitting it in the car and it had a few blades of grass stuck on it. She shook it once, twice, failing to remove them and glanced at Thomas who was on his way to the car already, tugging David along.

She touched the headstone lightly, “I’ll come back later and tell you everything.” she said and hurried along after them.

* * *

 

They drove in more or less silence, David snuggled into Maggie in the back seat to hide his confusion, Thomas with his mouth set in a firm line. When they pulled up outside the house, Maggie gasped, but Thomas ignored her as he led them out of the car and knocked smartly on the door.

It opened to a red-haired woman, stunningly attractive despite her apparent exhaustion and the fact she was covered in some sort of mess, apparently generated by the toddler at her hip. Her expression as she took in the man at her door was almost comical.

“Thomas Raith,” she said, in a half-believing whisper.

“That’s me,” he said impatiently. “I need the skull.”

Andi looked at him, mouth slightly open, for a moment longer, before turning her back and calling, “Waldo! I, er. Think you should see this!”

“Yes hi, I’m also here.” Maggie said irritably from behind Thomas.

Maggie had sought out Murphy after it was made obvious that Thomas didn’t want anything to do with what he called ‘Harry’s friends’ after his death but Maggie, as soon as she was allowed out and about on her own had tried to salvage whatever there had been there to save with Karrin.

This had not been the case with Butters and Andi though.

She was vaguely aware they had a kid and that Butters still worked with  Bob in the streets of Chicago but that’s where her knowledge ended.

“Can we come in?” she asked.

Andi just looked at her, then back at Thomas, then down to David, who had taken a few steps forward out of curiosity. Before anyone said anything else, Waldo Butters appeared behind his girlfriend, his eyes widening comically behind his glasses. “Thomas,” he spluttered. “And … is that  _Maggie?”_

“Yeah, she got older,” Thomas replied, actually tapping his foot now. “And this is David. I need to see Bob, Butters. Please.”

“Bob…?” Butters repeated, glancing at Andi, who looked back at him and bit her lip.

“Yes,  _Bob,_ “ Thomas snapped. “Creepy, magic skull. Now, please.”

If his tone was supposed to scare Butters, it didn’t work. Instead, the ME’s eye’s somehow widened more, then narrowed. “I’m … not sure it’s the best time,” he said hesitantly. “Andi, take Becca back inside, huh?”

“Oh for – I’m not not going to hurt your  _baby,_ Butters. I’m still  _me.”_

“No offence,” Butters said, as Andi retreated back into the livingroom, “But we haven’t seen  _you_ in years. How do we even–”

“Butters,” Thomas said, looking him in the eye now. “It’s my son.  _Please._ I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t–”

Butters looked pained, but shook his head. “Thomas, we’re still at war. I don’t … I can’t just  _invite you into my house.”_

Thomas tried not to let out the growl of anger that was building in his chest. “Butters–” he started, but the doctor had turned away from him.

“Maggie. I need some guarantee here,” he appealed, apparently giving up on Thomas. “Give me something.”

Maggie was staring at the exchange, jaw dropping more and more.

“Ok you know what?” she said covering David’s ears. “Fuck. That.” she glanced at Thomas as if daring him to scold her for swearing. She had caught up to what he wanted to do and she wanted to smack herself for not thinking about it.

“Look, we’d ask Bonnie but she’s still like talking to a five year old about cold fusion. I can leave my power at the door if you want to and _he_ will too.” she said pointing at Thomas. “But you gotta at least invite David in or  _I’m_  coming in and  _taking_ Bob.” Her eyes flashed angrily. It didn’t help that she was about nine inches taller than he was.

“Just like your father.” Butters stared at her although not for long. Soulgaze. “One day after a long absence. Just barging in to take the skull. Are you going to beat up my girlfriend too?” he asked then looked at Thomas, “You raised that one well, Raith.”

“Oh  _hell’s bells.”_ Maggie growled, “Will you let us in or not?"

For the first time, a ghost of a smile appeared on Butters’ face, and he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I keep Bob upstairs.” He moved aside to let them in, but when David took a few steps towards the living room, he put out a hand to stop him. “Eh, no, not in there right now, let’s, uh, go see Bob.”

“Who’s Bob?” David asked, while Thomas raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

On their way up, Butters explained to David who Bob was, and Thomas, in turn, explained what had happened at the graveside, causing Butters to give a low whistle. He turned his head, interested, and said, “Maggie, when did your powers start to manifest?”

Thomas frowned as they paused outside a locked door. “You think it’s some kind of magic thing? Like Maggie’s auras? _”_

“Could be,” Butters said, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Let’s ask the expert.” He was about to let them in the room but paused again. “On second thought, just let me–” he walked into the room, which was his computer room and unplugged everything, with a look at Maggie who was standing outside. “Ok come in now. Bob wake up.”

Two bright orange lights lit up in the skull’s eye sockets. “Aye aye Sahib, hat do you need?” he asked then noticed the others. “Oooh Harry’s ilk. Hello!”

“Bob,” Thomas greeted, a smirk playing on his mouth as he nodded. “I need you to take a look at my boy.”

David stared, fascinated, at the skull. Or, that’s what  it  _seemed_ like he was doing; instead, he said, “Daddy, where’s the skull? Who’s that man?”

Bob’s eyelights flared with curiousity at these words, and, as usual, Thomas was left puzzling over how an inanimate object could be so … expressive. The skull cast his gaze over David, then said, “Yer a wizard, ‘Arry.” Then, at a glance from Butters, “Oops, poor taste. Apologies, Sahib.”

Maggie wasn’t too acquainted with Bob but there had been times when Harry had borrowed him from Butters for research, since there were things Bonnie wasn’t able to articulate yet. At his joke she actually let out a giggle. It sounded strained but still diffused the situation. 

“You are not a skull.” David said pointing at the general direction of Bob, only higher.”

“I am not, indeed, young Padawan.” said Bob. “I am a spirit of intellect.”

“I don’t know what that is but you look like that actor in the movie.” David crossed his arms on his chest and Thomas prodded Bob’s skull with a finger.

“What’s going on, Yorick?”

In response, Bob’s eyelights flickered to Thomas. “What’s going on, _Edward_?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, but otherwise ignored the jibe as he explained what had happened at the graveyard. It was Bob’s turn to whistle - seriously, how did do that - and look back at David.

“Hey, kid,” Bob asked, “How old did ghost Harry look?”

David shrugged. “I don’t know, like a grown up?”

Bob’s eyelights rolled. “ _Kids,_ you know what I mean?” he said conversationally, and Butters snorted. “Looks to me, Luigi, like your son’s been tapping into your memories. Has this happened before?” he asked the boy.

David looked embarrassed. “Uh, I’ve never seen Uncle Harry before,” he said.

“Yes, yes, but anyone else?” Bob pressed.

“Um, I see Mommy around the house sometimes, and I don’t think Maggie or Mouse or Daddy do,” the boy replied uncertainly, at which Thomas’s whole body gave a sudden, violent jolt and he had to sit down in one of the swinging chairs.

“You see your mother?” he asked. “Since when?”

“Since always,” David said, shrugging. “Just doing things like she used to. She can’t talk anymore though.”

“Definitely not a ghost, if Scooby-Doo isn’t reacting,” Bob said helpfully. “Looks like you’ve got another talent on your hands, Raith.”

“But she kissed me yesterday night. And talked. Which was  _different._ ” David protested. Maggie’s mouth twitched, remembering he had confused Mab for Justine. 

The hurting place in her chest felt sore again.

Butters frowned. “Where _is_ Mouse anyway?”

Maggie blushed. “I left him at my friend’s house yesterday. I had some plans in which he wouldn’t be allowed to accompany me.” she said. Because there would be no way Mouse would have let her summon Mab if he was around. So Sophie had him. She was supposed to pick him up later that evening.

“Oh!” David said brightly, “Sometimes around Maggie there is a beautiful dark woman. She looks a bit like Maggie too.” he offered. “Did I do anything wrong? What did I do wrong daddy?”

“You did nothing wrong,” Thomas told him, standing up and approaching his son. _Empty night, but another wizard._ that was all he needed. “You’ve got magic, like Maggie,” he said, “Isn’t that cool?”

David’s eyes widened, and, behind Thomas, the skull let out the most delicate false cough that Thomas has ever heard. Thomas looked round at him, and Bob said, “Yes, he does. And  _you’ve_ got … ”

“All the information I came for. I won’t take up any more of your time, Butters,” Thomas cut across him, ignoring the slightly suspicious look that Butters was giving him. He expected to have to argue with Butters as he offered him to stay for tea, but instead, the doctor’s expression seemed suddenly … relieved.

“Sure,” Butters said, “Come visit again sometimes. Let’s go before–”

The door opened, but the woman who walked in wasn’t Andi. "Waldo,” she said, “Andi’s fallen asleep with the baby and I–” she trailed off, taking in the occupants of the room.

“Karrin,” Thomas said, feeling as though someone had punched him low in the gut all of a sudden.

“Waldo,” Karrin said again slowly, and her voice was shaking slightly this time. “Waldo, what is he doing here?”

Butters turned to her, lips pressed together as he turned to her. “He needed the skull for his son. He was just leaving.”

“He was the one who decided to stop coming here.” Karrin protested, “He wanted us out of his life, I don’t see why we should let him back in. I don’t give a shit that he’s here for his son make him go away.” 

Maggie flinched.

“That’s cold, Karrin.” she was hurt, hurt because they were supposed to deal with this together, cold because she hadn’t even acknowledged she was there, when Maggie was the only tie she had to Harry nowadays.

Cold.

Bob chuckled and his eyelights flickered from Maggie, to David, to Thomas.

“Heh. Cold. That’s funny, considering a certain someone is the new Winter Knight.”

Karrin’s eyes widened, her eyes on Maggie.

“What?”

“ _Dammit,_ Bob,” Thomas snarled, whirling to face the skull again and suddenly, vividly, imagining smashing it on the floor.

“Don’t take it out on me,” Bob said innocently. “I exist to give information. It’s not  _my_ fault you don’t want it shared. Tell me, did you undergo the same initiation as Harry did, or–”

“What’s a winter kite?” David asked, tugging at Maggie’s hand, confused.

“And you,” Thomas said irritably, turning on Maggie now. “That’s cold Karrin’? What are you, best buddies now? How long has  _that_ been going on behind my back?”

“Oh so you find it weird that I tried to not sever ties to my dad’s girlfriend?” Maggie rolled her eyes, “She helped raised me before you took me in, I sought her out as soon as you let me out on my own.”

“Thomas, you need to calm–” Butters started.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Butters, or I swear–”

“This is my house,” Butters said calmly, “And my daughter is downstairs. You’ll calm down or you’ll leave.”

Perhaps it was seeing the little ME stand up for himself so confidently, or perhaps it was the way David said, “Daddy?”, but Thomas’ mouth clamped shut and he was suddenly very interested in the floorboards.

Butters regarded him a moment more, then looked at Maggie. “Is it true?” he asked.

“You calling me a liar, sahib?” Bob demanded in a wounded tone, to be ignored by everyone.

“What’s a winter kite?” David repeated, “Why is everyone so upset?”

“Shh, I will tell you everything later.” Maggied promised.

“Wait.” Murphy raised her palms in the air, “Just wait. _Who_ is the Winter Knight?” she looked between Maggie and Thomas, “Maggie, you promised you wouldn’t do anything stupid!”

At this, Thomas couldn’t help it. He barked out a dry laugh and said, “Come on, Karrin, nothing stupid? You knew her dad.”

Maggie looked indignant, but, for the first time, Karrin was looking at Thomas. “What happened?” Karrin demanded of him, looking as though it pained her to speak to him.

“She did something _stupid_ ,” Thomas replied, looking straight at Karrin and folding his arms. He began to talk, telling the whole story from the moment Mab had first approached him when Harry died, to her visit at the school, to her showing up on his doorstep with Maggie in tow. When he finished, he shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? Let  _her_ take Maggie?”

_Of course, there would have never been a situation in the first place if that stupid little girl hadn’t–_

He looked back at the floor.

“If you had let the Winter Queen take  _her_ I would be extremely pissed that I had no warning about it to make sure I could be in Faerie.” Bob said, his eyelights managing to appear sly.

“Bob  _no_.” Butters groaned and Bob cackled.

“Bob yes!” Bob replied still cackling before his eyes flicked out.

“The man is gone.” David announced. “But the vampire man I saw in Graceland is back.” he said pointing at Karrin. “Behind her.”

Karrin looked behind her, frowning. “ _What_ is going on, Thomas?”

“He doesn’t look like a vampire anymore, though,” David went on. “He’s wearing a big long coat and his face is all scruffy and he’s looking at her like you used to look at Mommy. Is that your husband, lady?”

“David, shh,” Thomas said, flinching at his words. “Maggie, would you mind taking him downstairs or something? Please?”

He waited while Maggie, very pale now, nodded and led David out of the room. When the door clicked closed, Thomas sank back into his vacated chair and said, “Sorry. He’s –” He shook his head, and started to talk again, finishing the story of his Knighthood and explaining what had happened that morning, and why they were here now.

Butters stared at the door, clearly fascinated by David’s power. “How long has this been going on?” he asked.

Thomas shrugged. “First I’ve heard of it. Go ask him, if you want,” he said, and Butters nodded. A glance at Karrin and a moment of hesitation later, he, too, disappeared out of the room, leaving Karrin and Thomas alone with the silent skull.

“Christ.” Murphy said when Butters left them alone. “Christ, Thomas. I thought you’d know better than to mess with Mab…”

“I denied her twice. Not surprising she got me on the third go. You know faeries.”

She knew. And she understood though. Just like Harry, for his child, for his brother’s child. She exhaled long through her nostrils before clutching her head.

She was still annoyed at him, still pissed that he hadn’t let her be a part of Maggie’s life after Harry’s death. She had been late after Harry was lost and although she was old, she had secretly hoped she was pregnant with his baby. As it turned out it had only been menopause.

One big fuck you from life after the other.

“I get it. I do. But I’m still mad at you. Don’t think we’re suddenly buddies again because this happened.”

He grinned. “And what makes you think I’d want to be?” A pause, and then, “For what it’s worth, the things I said … I shouldn’t have. The last few years … Harry, then Justine, then nearly David … I’ve just been …” he trailed off. “Well. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”

“Damn right. ” she said her mouth set stubbornly. “I’m sorry about Justine. I should have called you when she–”  
She trailed off. 

“Yeah, you should have,” Thomas replied, and the subject was dropped at that.

“How come you came for Bob? Wouldn’t Bonnie be able to help?”

“Probably,” Thomas shrugged. “I don’t have her, though. She wasn’t able to do her thing, stuck with me, and with Maggie studying to do a  _normal person_ job, neither of them was much help to the other. Of all people, she ended up being taken in by Elaine Mallory when she came to pay her respects. As far as I can tell, they’re both much happier with that arrangement.”

She nodded. She didn’t know Elaine that well but she was sure Harry would have been happy about it.

_God, it still hurt so much._

He looked at the door Butters had left through and said,”I didn’t realise they’d had a daughter.”

“Yeah, she’s almost two. Rebecca. ” she said simply, “Butters has been doing well. ”

The way she said it, the sadness in her tone, implied that Butters (and Andi) were the only ones doing well. “Your kid grew up a lot.”

“David, yeah. He’s had a bad time of it recently, but I suppose Maggie would have told you all about that,” Thomas said. 

( _behind my back, the little bitch, needs to be taught a lesson)_

He shook his head once, firmly. He should be controlling this better. He’d spent his whole adult life dealing with the demon, what was one more monster?

“Yeah… She mentioned it. Trust me, if I knew what she was about to do I wouldn’t have let her… Not that she’d listen…”

She had noticed the way his mouth clenched when he mentioned Maggie and let a small breath of relief she hadn’t realised she was holding when he shook his head.

“Have–” he started, then tried again, “Has Molly been in contact with anyone?”

“Not with me.” she said firmly, “Charity hasn’t seen her ina while either last I asked and she seemed really heartbroken about it so I just stopped asking.” she sighed, “That was three years ago, from what I know she hasn’t been in Chicago in that long.”

Thomas breathed out shakily. “I’m worried about seeing her again,” he admitted. He didn’t know why this was suddenly so easy to admit to Karrin, Karrin who he’d exchanged three or four words with in the last few years, but he knew he had to tell someone. “She’s … I remember what she was like, last time. This time … she’s a fucking  _faerie,_ Kaz. One of their queens. My  _boss.”_

He pursed his lips for a moment before speaking again. “What if she’s not Molly anymore?” he said. “Harry would never forgive me if … ”

Karrin Murphy was a lot of things. Fierce, stubborn, tough, determined.

She wasn’t cold.

She reached out and took Thomas’s hand in her own, not commenting how he felt colder than usual. Her own hands were a little clammy by this time and she sighed, squeezing his hand with hers.

“I can be with you when you set up a meeting, if you like?” she asked, “Not that last time we lost Harry she was the biggest fan of me but… we can try.”

Thomas, now standing, squeezed Karrin’s hand in return. They were silent for a few moments, then he leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “He was right to love you,” he said, almost in a whisper, his heart wrenching at the unfairness of it all.

“He was a big, stupid, nerd.” Karrin said, barking a laughter that sounded a little too strained, stained with the presence of tears in it. “He should never have gotten with me, poor mortal Murphy, you know? I never imagined he’d go first. I– I miss him so much that some days it hurts to get out of bed. Sometimes I don’t.” she confessed, then pulled him in a hug. 

“He was always going to go first,” Thomas said, with a pained laugh of his own, allowing her to embrace him and hugging her in return. “Because of what a big stupid nerd he was. If he was Frodo, he’d have jumped into Mount Doom himself to make  _sure_ the ring was gone.” He pulled away to look at her and said, “Never say that. Never. You were … if it wasn’t for you, Karrin Murphy, he would have been gone a long time before he was. He would have never been my brother. Never been a hero.  _You_ were his strength. You gave him faith, from long before you both got off you stubborn backsides and got together. Poor mortal Murphy my pretty ass.”

He straightened again and gave her a small smile, then said, “ “We can reminisce later. Maggie will be getting antsy downstairs. Would you like to meet David properly?”

“You are a good man, Thomas. You are also an idiot. Like your brother. I’d love to meet your son. It’s long overdue.”

Meeting David had gone well and Karrin had offered to take them all for icecream and leave Andi to get some rest. Butters politely declined, obviously still wary around Thomas but the four of them just got to a small icecream shop on the lakeside.

“When are you going to meet Molly?” she asked after Maggie had taken David to feed bread to some ducks.

 

Thomas gave a little shrug and said, “I don’t think I get to just demand meetings with the queens anymore.” He snorted, watching as Maggie shriek indignantly while David splashed he with water. “But when I do, I’ll let you know. Guess it just means we’ll have to actually stay in contact or something.”

“You got a trouble with that Raith?” she asked calmly and coldly but there was a smile flickering on her face as she watched David and Maggie play, nudging Thomas’s foot with a worn out sneaker.

“Damn, I missed this. I missed lazy Sunday afternoons with the kid.” she pointed at Maggie with her chin. “Dinner at my place tomorrow. I insist.”

“Sure,” Thomas said. “I need to visit Lara around lunchtime tomorrow, anyway, since I skipped out on it today. I doubt she’ll be thrilled with me, so a nice dinner wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

They listened in silence to the noises around them before Thomas finally spoke again. “You know I didn’t want this, Karrin,” he said, and even he wasn’t sure precisely what he meant by that.

“What? To become Mab’s bitch or keep all your friends away after we lost Harry?” she asked, faster than she could control the bitterness in her voice, and raised her hands as soon as she had spoken. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stop worrying, Harry might have still–”

Thomas flinched at her words, and shot a glare at her. “Not if you’re going to do that all night, no,” he snapped back. “I’m not the only one who did cutting out, and it’d be nice if you’d remember that from that high horse of yours. And next time, I’ll just leave Maggie to it, shall I? Or, better, I’ll just offer David up. Why not.” He grunted at her immediate apology and muttered, “Yeah, well.”

Karrin shook her head. If Harry hadn’t been the Winter Knight when he did he would be dead much sooner. Maggie too.

And Thomas.

“Just come around, around five, bring the kids too, alright?”

He got to his feet then. “I think I’d better get David home,” he said. He took a few steps away, then, without turning back, said, “We’ll see you at five.”


	4. Chapter 4

Karrin had gone out of her way to prepare a full five course dinner as if she was receiving the Royal family of Sweden instead of her friends. She realised she had stressed and gone overboard shortly before they arrived and decided that, well, they were going to eat all of those anyway.

The house felt empty, Mister had gone shortly after Harry, as if he knew his buddy wasn’t coming back this time, and she was glad to finally have someone come over to her house.

She hadn’t realised that while she was accusing Thomas of shutting down everyone she had also partially done the same, never inviting anyone to the space she had shared with Harry. She even had a cupboard with his clothes that still smelled like him, after all these years. The fact that there were wine stains that just wouldn’t come off from the floor next to it, more than a mere coincidence.

At five o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang and she went to answer.

David was still in his school uniform, Maggie carting her backpack from college, Mouse at her side. He’d been severely unimpressed when they’d gone to collect him yesterday, and had maintained a haughty demeanor since that moment, but as Thomas led the way up the garden path the dog let out a low whine. Apparently, he also remembered the last time he’d been here. Maggie, too, was somewhat subdued, but David was chattering excitedly the whole time.

Karrin let them in, and Thomas didn’t comment about the mountain of food. The dinner was going well, and a warmth surrounding the table, when David said, “How come we never came here before, Daddy?”

“Well,” Thomas said carefully, putting down the forkful of food that hadn’t made it to his lips. “Auntie Karrin and I didn’t talk for a while, but it’s okay now.”

“Why not? She’s my auntie, isn’t she?” David persisted.

“She is,” Maggie said, trying to intervene, “But grown-ups can be silly sometimes.”

David frowned at looked at Karrin. “Why didn’t you like my daddy?” he asked, his high voice making it sound like an accusation.

“Actually, David–” Karrin started, dabbing her mouth with a napkin and Maggie groaned.

“No. Just. _No_.”

“Maggie what no?” David frowned and Karrin put down the napkin.

“Your daddy was the one who didn’t like me for a while.” she said.

Maggie just groaned and poured herself a glass of wine, filled to the brim. She turned to look at both Karrin and Thomas that were looking at her.

“What?” she asked exasperated, “I’m 21. If you’re going to do this I can at least have my fermented grape juice.”

“I want grape juice!” David said enthusiastically.

“Drink your lemonade,” Thomas told his son. “And Auntie Karrin didn’t like me very much, either. In fact, both of us didn’t like each other, and it’s important that you remember when you grow up that you should be willing to claim responsibility for things.”

Maggie took a gulp of her wine.

David just looked further confused. “But weren’t you both Uncle Harry’s friends?”

“It is a great thing to assume responsibility for things. Sometimes there are people who will want to carry everything on their back so they can descend into an angst spiral and be a martyr.” Karrin said pointedly, poking at some food with her fork.

“You just had to do this before dessert.” Maggie muttered. “Stop.”

“You mean like Harry did?” Thomas asked politely, ignoring Maggie, who was now looking to Mouse for help. The dog just looked back at her with mournful eyes, clearly thinking this was going to go ahead no matter what they did. “Or were you talking about me? Because I appreciate the comparison.”

“What’s a martyr?” David asked.

“A martyr is someone who suffers for a good cause,” Thomas replied. “Someone willing to make a sacrifice. A good person who’ll do something even if everyone else is going to give them crap for it.”

“Oh my god,” Maggie muttered.

“Daddy said a bad word.” David commented. “You should put change in the cuss jar when we get back home.”

“How did your talk with Lara went, uncle Thomas?” Maggie asked desperately trying to diffuse the situation. David wasn’t helping.

“Who is a martyr?” he asked again. 

“No one!” Maggie tried.

“Sometimes, it’s a martyr complex.” Karrin said, ignoiring Maggie and David, looking directly at Thomas, “Meaning someone will beat themselves up for things they could have avoided.”

“Oh, unlike the  _real_ martyrs, who sit about in stasis and assume they’ve got the right to be all self-righteous with everyone else, huh?” Thomas snapped.

“You two are the actual worst.” Maggie commented and emptied her glass then got up. “David come on, Mouse wants to play fetch.”

“My pie?” David protested. 

“You’ll get your pie later, come on. We’re leaving,” Maggie said, half-dragging David out of the door, Mouse following behind her.

“Well,” Thomas added, feeling the heat surge through him again, “Not  _complete_ stasis, obviously.”

Karrin watched Maggie dragging out David, aided by the bear of a dog who nudged his back encouragingly. She was about to apologise and ask Thomas to just talk, get it out of their system now that the kids were not there, when something in his tone, in the way he said  _stasis_ , fired her up again.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Thomas snorted, and looked at her almost pityingly. The heat was gone, replaced by a chilled calm, nearly amuement. “Oh, please,” he said. “Didn’t you notice what was  _different_ yesterday from the last time I saw you? The fact that I was able to place that little kiss on your forehead was kind of telling, that’s all I’m saying.”

Karrin actually blushed at that, considering lying to him, claiming that the protection had faded, but he’d know. He’d  _know._

What the hell. Harry was gone. Had been gone for a long time. She was not a teenager to be scolded. She stared him down.

“It’s been  _five_ years Thomas.”

“I know how long it’s been. In case you didn’t notice, I had two kids to raise and a wife to watch die in that time,” Thomas replied, in that same, cool voice. “Not everyone has had your luxury of being able to mope forever. I don’t care who you fuck, Karrin, but don’t try to come off better than everyone else when you  _clearly_ had time for a little fun now and again.”

“You mean the kid I offered to help you raise and you said no? The kid whose father I simply dated and didn’t birth as you so perfectly stated?” she spat, “Yeah I had time between having no job or anyone to care for, dragging myself out of bed to go stare at the lake considering jumping in or pull a Harry and call Kincaid to shoot me from afar.” 

Somewhere, underneath the cold sheen, there was a flicker of shame at the reminder of her words, but it was smothered by the laugh which came out of his mouth at her words. “Oh, that’s right. ‘Am I suicidal or just horny?’ That excuse didn’t work for  _me,_ never mind  _you.”_

Karrin was on her feet now, and Thomas, too, stood, pushing his chair aside roughly. “What did Kincaid do? When you called, did he turn up with the condoms that afternoon, or did he wait until the next morning? And how was that conversation?” He took a few steps foward, and said, in a high tone, “‘ _Gosh, Kincaid, it sure sucks that Harry died, now who’s going to scratch my itch?_ ’”

He laughed derisively. “You know, even I - even  _I -_ managed to hold off better than you did afer Justine died, and I have a literal monster clawing my soul apart when I don’t get laid. Saint fucking Murphy indeed.”

Murphy didn’t have a winter mantle per se but she also felt a coldness covering her heart at his words, making her stand as tall as she could at her five foot nothing.

“No.” she said frostily enough to rival Mab herself, “No, but he did manage to talk me out of jumping. Then he brought me home and made me soup and watched stupid movies with me and comforted me, and talked about Harry with me, because that is what _friends_ do.” she set her jaw, “The other thing just happened. Once. Long time after  _he_ died.” 

She let her hands drop, “You know what, I don’t have to make excuses to you about who I fuck, it’s not like I cheated on Harry.” she glared at him. “You don’t get to guilt trip me over this when you were not around to do those things for me.”

“ _I_ should have been there to stop you from  _jumping?_  Me? Oh, I’m sorry, Karrin. Truly sorry. Between watching my brother, who I’d only been allowed to know as an adult die, and fending off the advances of a psychotic faerie, and watching my son nearly die being born, and watching the woman who had kept me going, the only reason I’m still alive, die when I could have stopped it, and trying to explain to my son why his mother wasn’t coming back anymore, just like Maggie’s father, just like my brother  – it’s sure been an easy five fucking years for me, Murph, I can’t believe I wasn’t  _there for you.”_

The ice broke, and there was a raw vulnerability in his tone, one which he couldn’t cover up quickly enough that she didn’t notice. “When Harry went into his spirals, you didn’t  _let_ him push you away, remember? None of us did.” His voice hardened again and he stepped closer, the two now almost toe to toe at the side of the table. “ _You_ wanted to jump? I wanted to die every single day, Karrin, and every single thing that’s happened since then has only made me want to  _jump_ more.” He was breathing heavily now, staring down at her, unable to control the jumble of anger and hatred and hurt and something else that was coursing through him. “I had to watch him die, then her die, and yes, I pushed you out, because I couldn’t  _stand_ it. You stand there and tell me  _I_ wasn’t there? Where the fuck were  _you_?”

“What was I supposed to do, force my way in? In your family where I was clearly unwanted? No, Thomas. You don’t get to turn this one on me, I can tell when I’m not wanted, I wouldn’t force my presence on you. ” she added flustered, realising that something very wrong was going on. His eyes were getting lighter.

_Christ._

“You couldn’t stand having a friend? You couldn’t stand having someone around who knew exactly what you were going through? Why the fuck didn’t you save Justine, huh? Why the fuck didn’t you accept the fuckin knighthood when you could have clearly done so?” she growled, tip-toeing to glare at him, “ _I_ would have done it for Harry.”

“Because Harry would have never  _forgiven_ me if I had!” Thomas snarled, his whole body shaking now. “Because he  _died_ wanted us all  _free_ of this shit, you absolute bitch, just like he would have died rather than let you do it for him. Do you not get this? Are you fucking stupid? You think I  _wanted_ to put myself in the position where Maggie gets to lose her dad all over again? Where David has to live in fear of triggering my fucking monster temper - which, by the way, I already have  _one_ to deal with. The only reason I did it, the only reason I’m in this  _shitty_ situation, was because it was either me or Maggie, do you understand? Not even  _David_ came into it. Don’t you  _dare_ imply I didn’t love Justine as much as you did Harry. Don’t you  _dare.”_

“You of all people should be able to control your fuckin monster, you have been dealing with it all your life, haven’t you?”

“Right, because controlling one monster is  _exactly_ the same as dealing with two,” Thomas growled back. “Two things happen when you blindly run into this shit out of love, Karrin,” he hissed. “Either you die, like Harry did … or things get  _shattered._ You, of all people, should know all about that. _”_  

Karrin looked away, whether out of shame or something else Thomas didn’t know, but he grabbed her arm so that she was forced to look at him again. 

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me. and don’t you  _dare_  mention that, you bastard.” she said through gritted teeth straining against him, turning her arm in turn and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to her level, her nose almost touching his. 

Whatever insult he was going to throw at her was lost as she pulled him towards her threateningly. In the silence after she spoke, you could have heard a pin drop, and he stared into her face, a slow smile curling lazily on his. “You got me,” he said softly. “I’m terrified. What’re you going to do to me?”

“Why?” she asked, testing her wrist in his grip. She knew how to get out of it, when it came defending herself against mortals, but a white court vampire? The  _Winter Knight_ ? She let out a soft chuckle. No fuckin way. It would be so easy for him to just shift his grip and break her wrist like a twig. “Why, should I do anything to you?”

She licked her lips, eyes drawn to his as if she was staring down a cobra. Her mind absently went to Maggie and David, wondering if Thomas would kill her, what would he do to them? And in the midst of that she could feel his vampire aura working, creeping up on her. She bet he could smell it.

Short, ragged, controlled breaths. 

“Well, now, look who’s showing some sense,” Thomas replied quietly. Slowly, barely moving, he released her wrist, then raised a hand to her fist. Gently, he removed it from his shirt, and lowered it so that both of her hands were by her sides. He placed his hands on her shoulder, still staring, barely blinking.

“What are you planning to do to me, Thomas?"

“I’m not Hungry, you know,” he told her, his tone still low. “I had my fill only yesterday. I’m  _furious,_ and hurting, and my shiny new Mantle wants me to tear you apart … but I’m not Hungry. So if I was to take some of those frustrations  _out on you,”_ he paused, one hand moving from her shoulder to under her chin, tilting her head up slightly, bringing her closer, “Tell me, what do you think would happen, Karrin?”

She held his gaze, if only because she was too afraid to look away. She didn’t even chance a glance to the door to see if Maggie was maybe coming back in. 

“I think,” She swallowed hard and audibly.  “That you could probably just– snap my neck.” Her hand went instinctively to her belt where she usually had her gun but she hadn’t worn it of course. This was dinner. With Thomas and Maggie. She started stepping backwards but it was in vain. Thomas simply followed her until her back was against the wall.

_Stay outside Maggie._  she thought furiously,  _Just, keep David and Mouse outside. Or run._

“Or maybe your shiny new monster is driving you towards…  _other things._  Like it did for him.” she almost droned, mesmerized, “He too grabbed my wrists like you did when he was like that.” she whispered. “Pinned me on the wall. On the bed. Fucked the  _shit_ out of me.” Her palm touched the wall, smooth and familiar, under her touch. She licked her lips again, her tone neutral, not scared or hostile anymore. If anything it sounded almost sensual. “Is that what you want, Thomas? Is that what will happen?”

He hadn’t noticed how they’d ended up backed up against the wall, but part of him - Mantle, demon, or just his grief trying to find an escape, he didn’t know - was more than a little triumphant. His smile deepened at Karrin’s words, and he took hold of one of her wrists again, holding it against the wall, his other hand pinned at the side of her head. and lowered his face so that his lips were inches from hers.

“Would you like that?” he asked her. “Would you like it if I  _fucked the shit out of you_ , Karrin?”

She gasped, her head moving on its own volition chasing his lips, gasping at the feeling of being held like that. 

“Since when…” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Another swallow. “…since when do monsters ask for permission?” She could feel him against her hipbone and her belly as he pressed closer and from her mouth escaped a guttural sound of need. It had been too long. Too long since she had felt anything as intense as this that wasn’t sorrow, too long since strong fingers had gripped her and made her feel wanted. “Yes.” she gasped, closing her eyes, her head banging once on the wall as she dropped it. “Yes I would.”

With a wordless noise of triumph, Thomas crushed his mouth onto hers, lifting her up, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, tongue parting her lips as he tasted her and she eagerly, aggressively responded. The thought of a bed flickered past his mind and probably hers too, but no, no here was fine, the bed would make it into something it wasn’t - the bed was where she made love, and this, this was mindless need.

She hastily unbuttoned his shirt while he pushed against her, barely even looking at what she’d uncovered in her urgency, running her hands over his chest as he impatiently removed her t-shirt, unhooking her bra with the hand that wasn’t holding her like a true professional, moving it to one of her breast, stroking and caressing then, almost roughly, pulling and teasing, until she had to pull her mouth away from his, making little mewling sounds, gasping his name.

If that was supposed to make him let up, it didn’t work, and he lowered his mouth to her other breast. She let out a high-pitched noise, and tightened her legs around him, so much that it would have hurt another man. Even with his strength, being upright was beginning to get awkward, and so he lowered her to the ground, staying pinned on top of her in case she dared to move, dared to try to take this moment from him.

He kissed her again, and her hands were reaching for the button on his pants, but he was faster, pushing her away and reaching hers first. He slid his hand down and she gasped, bucking at the sensation, moving against him. He lowered his head again, kissing and nibbling at her breast, causing another, desperate cry.

“Thomas _,”_ she gasped, and he could feel her shaking below him, around him.

“Yes?” he replied, gruffly making his tone as conversational as possible as he held her there.

She let out an incoherent whimper, and Thomas moved his hand inside her again, enjoying the way her eyes shot open, enjoying the need in her tone as she said his name again.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked her, and, when she didn’t answer, he removed his hand from her underwear, removing her hands from him, pinning them to the ground, running his lips and tongue along her body. “When I talk to you,” he said, reaching her breasts again and pulling gently at her nipple with his teeth, “I expect,” his tongue, “An answer.”

“ _Thomas…”_

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled again.

“ _Please,”_ she groaned, and on that word, he removed what was left of the clothing, pinning her wrists again thrusting into her without any further preamble, again and again until she cried out, then more and more until his body gave a shudder and, after a moment or two, he collapsed on top of her.

They lay there like that, in silence, for what seemed like hours,  his weight on top of her almost too familiar, the shape of his jaw too intimate, reminding her of Harry. At that thought she squirmed, giving him a final deep kiss making him to roll off of her. 

“Well,” he said, in his normal, conversational tone. “That was interesting. Feel better?”

“Much. You?” she asked, pulling her pants up. Her hair had fallen off its neat bun and she felt like covering her breasts, feeling silly right after she gave it a good thought. She stood up, looking around for her bra, which was resting on one of her plants and she pulled that on too before reaching for her t-shirt.

“I’m going to fix my hair,” she said as if nothing had happened. “Will you call Maggie and David in for pie?”

“Might want to crack a window first,” Thomas said with a snort as he buttoned his own shirt back up, his pants already back in place. He did so for her, knowing it wouldn’t have much effect, but nonetheless went to the front door and called out.

Mouse came bounding back first, Maggie and David behind him. “Karrin has pie,” Thomas told them cheerfully.

“Is it apple pie?” David asked cheerfully gambolling his way inside before his cousin. Maggie looked at Thomas narrowing her eyes.

“So you didn’t kill each other? Good.” she said, then stepped in the house and paused for a moment, then let out a  _Hm._  her eyes on the open window.

“Pecan.” Karrin called from the hallway, walking towards the dining table with a pie dish in her hands, not a hair out of place.

* * *

 They ate the pie and the rest of the meal went as though there had been no unpleasantness between them, either earlier in the day or ever. Thomas took Karrin’s new cellphone number, and told her he’d call as soon as he heard anything about Molly, and she promised him that she’d be there.

He was actually  _whistling_ to himself as he drove the kids and Mouse back home, David sound asleep curled up against the dog in the back seat, Maggie in the front. It was nothing to do with the sex, really; he was more than satisfied enough already. The light feeling in his chest was more to do with the fact that, for the first time in five years, he had his friend back.

…and maybe a little to do with the sex.


	5. Chapter 5

 

“You know…” Maggie said when she was sure David had been asleep, “I might not have a supernatural sense of smell but next time you’d better crack the window a bit broader, ok?” she suggested, “Or burn some incense or something.”

 “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thomas replied cheerfully. “Although if I  _did,_ I’d point out that I’m the one who has to clean your bedsheets, and have had to since you were sixteen, and that hypocrisy doesn’t look pretty on a lady.”

Maggie blushed a little. “Yeeeah, I didn’t call you in right after though,” she said in a sing-song voice, turning to look at him. “I never knew you and Karrin were— Oh MY GOD is that why you stopped seeing each other six months in? Is this a thing? Was this a thing?!”

 “What?” Thomas demanded, having to hit the brake as he accidentally jerked the car in his surprise. “No. No, it isn’t– it wasn’t– Karrin was your  _dad’s girlfriend,_ Maggie, come on. Surely you think better of me than that?” He got the car back under control, and drove on, muttering slightly incredulously to himself.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Gee, don’t crash the car,” she shrugged, “I don’t know you kinda needed very little time to get things going in there I mean, we were out for an hour, tops.”

She seemed intrigued by this development and if Thomas was uncomfortable she didn’t seem to notice. “So uh, are you two gonna do the thing? I mean, not the  _thing_ thing but–” she waved her hand, “You know what I mean!” 

 

Thomas let out a breath. Sometimes he forgot how incredibly young Maggie still was, but it was at times like these he was forcibly reminded - even compared to her actions with Mab two days before. “No, Maggie,” he said, very gently. “It wasn’t even a thing. It was just… finishing some stuff. That’s all. It won’t happen again.”

“Finishing. Some stuff. Right.” she snorted, “You help a lot of people _finish_ their stuff like this?” she covered her mouth with a hand and giggled as they took the turn to their street.

“Yes,” Thomas said, with a chuckle. “That’s literally my thing, Mags.”

Playfully bickering, with a half-awake David being lead by Mouse, they entered the house. Thomas immediately went to the sofa, ready to flop down and relax -  _finally_ \- only to find that his space was occupied.

“Kitty!” David mumbled.

“Fuck,” Thomas said absently.

“Cuss jJar, Uncle Thomas,” she tsk her tongue and eyed the Malk, “Hey Cheshire, long time no Sidhe.” she laughed at her own joke (bitterly) placing a hand on David’s chest to shield him from the creature. The Malk seemed unimpressed,

“Cheshire is not my name,” its scratchy voice sounded female. If that was possible. “I am Maud. I am here to collect the Knight.”

“Hi, Maud,” Thomas said tiredly. “I’ll be just a few.”

Turning his back on the Malk, he took David’s hand and led him away from Maggie into his bedroom. After taking his sweet time tucking his son into bed, he came back out to the living room, where Maud was looking distinctly less than pleased.

“Now,” Thomas said, “What can I do for you?”

“Impudent. Making me wait.” the Malk bared her fangs licking them idly. “The Lady Winter has requested your presence in Arctis Minora; she wishes to meet the new Winter Knight.” 

Thomas let out a long suffering sigh. “Of course she does,” he said. “Tonight?”

Maud just looked at him, and Thomas nodded.

“Fine, but we have to make a stop on the way. I promised someone else they could be in on this. Maggie, babysitting duty again, okay?” Thomas said.

* * *

The three of them - Thomas, Maud, and a Karrin, who looked slightly disgruntled that this had to happen  _tonight_ \- arrived in Faerie not long after, and the Malk took them to the meeting place.

Thomas froze in the doorway - not, this time, literally - as he saw the two women at the table. Mab was there, perhaps as Molly’s Karrin in this case, looking almost… amused, though Thomas would never presume to say that out loud.

And there was Molly, looking blonde and beautiful and only more radiant than she had when he’d last seen her four years ago. Unconsciously, he gripped at Karrin’s hand and was slightly comforted as she squeezed back.

“My Lady,” Maud said, sauntering into the room ahead of them, “My Queen. I present your Knight and… ” Thomas could almost hear the eyeroll in her tone, “Guest.”

Mab extended her hand, and Maud leaped happily on her lap where she curled up and started purring as if she was nothing but a kitten. The Queen might as well haven’t been there as she continued leaning back in her seat, observing through half-lidded eyes. Molly’s face was, if possible, even more devoid of expression than Mab’s.

Karrin, having met with Mab along with Harry in situations more absurd but not less similar than this, elbowed Thomas hard and whispered through gritted teeth. “Greet them. Kneel. Do your thing.”  

Spurred into action, but feeling curiously like an empty doll, Thomas stepped forward and made the necessary formal greetings. Mab’s lack of reaction was almost comforting, really; it was what he expected from her, and was significantly less creepy than the joy he’d seen on her face when he’d accepted his new role. But Molly… Empty Night, where was  _Molly?_

When he was finished with his greetings, the inclining of the head, the royal titles, there was a prolonged silence. After what seemed like an age, he said, “Uh … I mean, may we sit?”

“ _You_  may.” Molly finally spoke and then looked at Karrin. “I do not remember requesting the presence of your mortal chattel, Knight.” 

At that moment, she looked less than Molly and more like Mab’s dead daughter, Maeve. Karrin flinched. She had planted a bullet through Maeve and while she didn’t know how the Lady’s mantle felt for its predecessor, Molly’s tone made her blood run cold.

Jesus.

Mab placed a pale hand over Molly’s hand and spoke a word in High Sidhe without turning to look at her. Molly glanced at Mab and then motioned at Thomas to sit.

“Next time I call for you, remember that the invitation does not extend.” 

Thomas shot an apologetic look at Karrin, then sat. “I’ll do that,” he said, trying his hardest to keep his tone neutral. “My apologies. What can I do for you?”

Karrin, who was standing a little to his left, coughed, and Thomas struggled not to roll his eyes. “My Lady,” he added.

“I felt slighted that a proper introduction of the new Knight of Winter had not occurred by now.” Molly said, “Unlike your brother, Sir Knight, you had no urgent matters to attend to, following your knighting, yet you apparently decided to concentrate on…” a glance to Karrin, “…other things.” 

“I was knighted two days ago,” Thomas replied, a little annoyed. “My Queen made it clear that she had no need of me at that moment, and that I would be called on when she did. And here I am.”

He caught her glance at Karrin, realising all of a sudden what this looked like -  _what it sort of is, Thomas -_ to Molly. He was knighted by Mab, didn’t go to Molly, went to Karrin,  _slept_ with Karrin… yes, the circumstances were entirely different, but Molly wasn’t going to see it that way. Ah, Christ.

“I went back to be with my son,” he said, in a slow, deliberate tone, “Which I felt was important, since the last time I’d seen him, he was dying. And I’d left him alone. With Maggie, I might add, who I thought might need the reassurance that I was okay. Given her previous experiences.”

"T _wo_ ,” Molly said, tilting her head. Her blue eyes had an eerie glow, much like Mab's, looking alien on her angelic face, “Two days ago. You have had plenty of time to arrange a meeting with your Lady.” she waved a hand not commenting on Maggie or David. 

“I wanted to make sure you were aware where I am holding court. I will be needing your presence there at least once a week,” she said. 

“I would never presume to call on you unless you’d requested my presence first,  _my Lady,”_ Thomas replied. “After all, we’d already reached that agreement before my Knighthood, hadn’t we?”

Another cough and Thomas shot a look at Karrin before continuing, telling her that her help wasn’t needed. “Of course,” he continued.  “I’m your servant to command. My Lady.”

“There were a lot of things that happened between us before your Knighthood,” she deadpanned, staring him straight in the eyes, just like when they had soulgazed, “Do you plan on reminiscing those past glories as well?”

“Why?” Thomas asked, and he could feel his body, his new mantle, responding to her tone. The insolent little bitch, he’d show her how to talk to him properly, he’d…  “Would you like to? My Lady?”

Behind him, a frustrated sigh, which he ignored.

“Seems to me that that spot is already occupied,” she said pointedly looking at her nails, long and pointy and sharp, painted in a sheen of clear blue tinted polish. “I try not to use leftovers.”  

“You’re looking in all the wrong places if you want virgins,” Thomas replied languidly. “And the idea of having leftovers didn’t seem to bother you when it was–”

“ _Thomas,”_ Karrin said, her voice sharp.

“We’re just  _talking,_ Karrin, relax,” Thomas said, not breaking eye contact with Molly. “My Lady is a big girl; she can deal with it.”

“Tell your friend to not interrupt when nobility is talking.” Molly said to him, and Karrin pursed her lips and didn’t reply to either. The way he had spoken, the tiniest growly quality of his tone while he didn’t break eye-contact with Molly had made her twitch and not with discomfort.

_Christ, Raith, if you’ve gotten me addicted to you, we throw down._

“I’ll go,” she said, “I shouldn’t be here. It was… uhm, nice to see you again Molly,” she nodded at her then at Mab. “Your Majesty.” 

 _Stay,_ Thomas wanted to say, but the part of him that wasn’t already on a high wire realised how unfair that would be… even if the idea of having both of them, or all three, on this table, now, gasping his name, was…

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll catch you later, Karrin. If you could see her safely home, your Grace, I’d appreciate it. It was my mistake in bringing her here,” he addressed Mab politely, glancing briefly away from Molly to do so.

Mab, who still wore an unreadable expression, gave an almost imperceptible nod, at which the Malk on her lap stretched and approached Karrin. What happened next, Thomas wasn’t sure, because he was looking back at Molly again.

“You shouldn’t be so rude, my Lady,” he told her. “It’s not very … ladylike.”

“Call me when you’re home.” Karrin said, touching his shoulder even though his attention was elsewhere.

Mab stood up and turned to Molly, “I will also be departing, it seems you and the new Knight have some things to settle which do not demand my presence.”

Molly showed the first sign of an expression -nervousness- at that. Mab was very busy and her dragging her here to make her digs at Thomas would probably not go unpunished. She bowed her head to Mab and waited until the queen was gone from the table, caressing Thomas’s neck with long fingernails as she went, before Molly looked at Thomas again.

Murphy suddenly saw Mab by her and let a small surprised gasp out, before putting her hands in her pockets, raising an eyebrow at Mab. Mab stared.

“Your _Grace?”_  she asked, “When _I_ made that mistake, your Majesty, you made sure to inform me on the proper forms of address.”

 _Hey look, seems I’m suicidal. Again._ Murphy thought.

 


End file.
